


Silver Lining

by mickeymouseno1



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: A bit pretentious tbh, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Deviates from 6x01, Getting out, Introspection, M/M, Pretty OOC but oh well, Reunion, Somewhat, post 5x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 01:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5723743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeymouseno1/pseuds/mickeymouseno1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re like used bottles of champagne, completely worn out after countless reruns of tragic fairytales. Shakespeare would be proud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Lining

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something I've had lying around on my computer for a while now, and I decided to post it. As a result, 6x01 basically didn't happen here.
> 
> Basically just me magically transporting the Milkovich siblings away from all their pain.

_i._

“We like to think of this place as a community. You don’t just stay here. You are home.”

It’s 1am, and a tired-looking Fiona nods her approval while pushing the guilt back down. “Thank you. This is just what he needs.”

“Ian will be well looked after.”

Fiona glances back one last time. Ian stares through her. She leaves.

_ii._

At 3am, Mickey is looking out the window of Mandy’s shitty apartment. He sees patterns of light in the distance. A nauseating kaleidoscope leaving behind the aftertaste of dreams. Hears the rhythm of sirens wailing in the distance.

He’s dangling a cigarette from his fingertips. The smoke escapes from his throat. Reminds him of his life being sapped from him. He’s worn out.

He looks back and sees Mandy gently snoring. Looking so vulnerable in her sleep, her usual defences gone. Mandy’s worn out too, he thinks. They’re like used bottles of champagne, completely worn out after countless reruns of tragic fairytales. Shakespeare would be proud.

Mickey reaches out and drops his cigarette on the cracked pavement below.

_iii._

At 5am, Ian is still staring. He sees a half-cracked sun. Imagines it shining brilliantly. Imagines a silhouette in the distance. It’s all white. He sees himself in white now. Standing next to him is Mickey.

Smoke splinters the image in two.

Mickey.

Fiona receives the call half an hour later.

_iv._

At 10am, Ian wakes up in a hospital. The first thing he registers is the horrible smell of disinfectant and chicken broth. Then the feeling of too clean sheets brushing past his face. And finally a sniffle. Fiona is sitting by his side, her tear-stained face watching him.

He wrinkles his nose at the horrible smell of disinfectant and chicken broth, feeling sterilised white sheets beneath his fingertips, full of regrets and remorse and sadness and that terrible sense of "How bad can this really get?"

Ian makes up his mind. He can’t stay here anymore.

_v._

Mickey and Mandy had made up their minds a long time ago. They’re completely lost in this new city, and unused to the sun being so _bright_. Mickey also still struggles with the time difference now and again, being a full 17 hours ahead of what he’s used to. But it’s all worth it when, at 2pm in the afternoon, watching the sails of the Opera House shine brilliantly under the sun, he sees Mandy smiling softly, and for the first time, she looks carefree. He cries and Mandy embraces him.

_vi._

At 4pm, Ian is back home, courtesy of Fiona’s skills of persuasion.

In front of him is a map he’d salvaged with Lip back when they were still kids running freely about the neighbourhood.

Ian closes his eyes and points. Opens his eyes again. Takes a tattered backpack stuffed with some clothes and a bit of the squirrel fund. He knows his family will be heartbroken when they come home and realise what he’s done. But he can’t stay here anymore.

As a joke, he once asked Fiona what three things she would run and take if their house was on fire.

She replied with pictures, wallet and hope.

Ian takes his wallet (with a picture inside he’s had since “He isn’t afraid to kiss me”) and walks out the door, mumbling words of hope and encouragement to himself.

_vii._

At 6pm, Mandy shoves Mickey unceremoniously into the car and they drive. Mandy hopes they can avoid the traffic jam that will inevitably occur. Mickey feels a pit of dread in his stomach.

_viii._

At 7pm, the whole Gallagher clan, even Frank, has caught up to Ian at the check-in and is begging him not to go. Fiona clutches his hand and pleads with him, her sentences broken up by fitful sobs.

Ian cries and begs them. He tells them that he needs to go. He needs _them_ to let _him_ go.

Fiona finally lets go, after securing promises of regular therapy and frequent Skype sessions.

Lip tells Ian never to contact him again.

Ian sobs as he boards the plane to Sydney.

_ix._

At 9pm the next day, Mickey is scowling, waiting for idiot brothers who miss their connecting flights and dump all their shit in his and Mandy’s apartment whenever they visit.

He sees a flash of red hair which, after all the distance he’s tried to put between him and that place, still makes his chest ache. But before he can look away, he sees green eyes looking right at him.

They stare at each other for a minute, oblivious to the noisy crowd around them.

And two people, who are both tired of running, of shitty circumstances, of life dumping everything it can on them, can’t find it in them to run anymore.

Instead, Mickey gives an awkward wave which Ian reciprocates. They walk slowly back to each other. And they begin again.

_x._

One day hope won’t be a storm cloud’s silver lining but a brilliant sky.


End file.
